


Pager

by Hibernia1



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Established Relationship, Hospitals, M/M, Pagers, Psychosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7014265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hibernia1/pseuds/Hibernia1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilson's pager goes off in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pager

House groaned when a pager started beeping. Both his and Wilson’s pager were on Wilson’s nightstand, something Wilson had insisted on after House had destroyed two of his pagers by throwing them across the room when the hospital paged him at night.

“Please tell me it’s yours,” House mumbled.

“It is,” Wilson said. He sat up and phoned PPTH.

“James Wilson here, I was paged,” he said. He listened for a while, then sighed.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thanks. Bye.”

He climbed out of bed and started dressing. House dragged himself up into a semi-sitting position and looked at Wilson disapprovingly.

“What on earth can be this important at 2.24 am? You’re a department head, for fuck’s sake. Let one of your servants deal with it.”

“It doesn’t work that way in my department. One of my youngest patients is dying. I want to be there for the parents.”

“Why are you putting on a tie? Those parents won’t notice.”

“I want to look professional. It’s a sign of respect to my patients and their family members. I don’t expect you to understand,” Wilson snapped.

“You always get pissy when one of your kiddies dies,” House observed, “it sort of comes with your specialty, you know.”

“Forgive me for caring.”

“Have you met these parents before?”

“Of course I have,” Wilson said, struggling with his shoelaces.

“Are they likely to become violent? Do you need me to come with?”

Wilson glanced at House with a hint of a smile on his face.

“That won’t be necessary, but thanks anyway,” he said, “and God, House, I was slapped in the face by a bereaved father once and it’s almost seven years ago. Get over it already.”

“Yeah, well. If someone hurts you, nobody will feed me,” House said.

“That would be bad,” Wilson agreed. He walked to House’s side of the bed, leaned in and kissed him.

“Get some more sleep. I’ll be back soon,” he promised. House waved and made himself comfortable again. He soon fell asleep.

When his cell phone started ringing about two hours later, he needed some time to identify the sound. 

“Why does the whole world want me and Wilson tonight?” he asked the room at large before answering his phone by barking his name.

“House, it’s me. Can you come pick me up?” Wilson said in his ear. House frowned. Wilson’s voice sounded off.

“Why? Are you okay?”

“Well, yeah… except my arm’s in a sling, so driving might be a challenge.”

“What happened?”

“Long story. Listen, can you please just come? I’ll tell you everything on the way home. I really want to go home, House.”

“You were attacked by the dead kid’s dad, weren’t you,” House said, not framing it as a question.

“It’s not what you think. House, please?”

“I’m on my way,” House said. He ended the call and flung his pillow across the room in frustration. Trust Wilson to get molested by grieving parents. Fucking moron. He’d give him hell for this. 

House didn’t bother to dress, he just slipped on sneakers and a coat and drove to the hospital with irresponsible speed.

Wilson was sitting in the lobby. His left arm was in a sling and he had a black eye. As soon as he saw House he stiffly started to get up, planting his right hand in his back and avoiding to put a lot of weight on his right leg. 

“Please tell me you’ll press charges,” House said while dragging Wilson upright.

“No,” Wilson said, “he couldn’t help it.”

“Couldn’t help it my ass!”

“House, can we talk about this at home?”

“Fine,” House snarled. He steadied Wilson while they slowly walked to the car. 

“Don’t let me lean on you, I’m fine, your leg…” Wilson started to protest, but House shot him a very angry look. “If you don’t want me to give you a second black eye, you better not finish that sentence,” he warned him, and Wilson took the hint and shut up.

House helped him get into the car and buckle up and drove home at a more conservative pace. He parked the car as close to the entrance to their building as he possibly could and helped Wilson to get out.

“Did you get that back X-rayed?” he asked. He’d planned to stay silent until they were back inside, but Wilson’s difficulty moving and the pain he obviously was in worried him.

“Yes. It’s just sprained. I’ll take some painkillers once I’m back in bed, the bottle’s in my jacket pocket.”

House nodded and supported Wilson, biting his lip when his leg protested against this course of action.

Inside, he helped Wilson take off his clothes and shoes and sit up against the headboard of their bed. Wilson gasped every time he moved his arm and House got him a glass of water to take his pills.

“It’s Vicodin,” Wilson told him, “funny, right?”

This was House’s cue to explode.

“Nothing about this is even remotely funny! Christ! You’re such a moron! I asked if you needed me to come with, but nooooooooooooooooo, Mr. I’ve Got It All Under Control knew better! Well, see what it got you, you stubborn little piece of shit? A dislocated shoulder, sprained back, twisted knee and the ugliest shiner I’ve seen in years! That man could have fucking killed you, James! I’ve told you a million times not to deal with grieving parents by yourself! What’s so fucking difficult about calling in some back up? Security? Another doctor? _Me_? He wouldn’t have been able to do this to you if I’d been around and you know it. And what’s your compelling reason not to press charges?”

Wilson patted the mattress next to him.

“Come back into bed,” he said, “and I’ll tell you. You’re about to keel over.”

“I’m not, and don’t change the subject,” House said angrily.

“House, your leg’s about to give out. If you won’t be able to walk tomorrow, we’re in deep shit.”

“It’s been tomorrow for ages already,” House said, but he did get into bed. “Now spill,” he ordered, “why won’t you press charges?” 

Wilson closed his eyes. “Because he literally couldn’t help it. He didn’t know what he was doing. He went from disbelief to rage to full-blown psychosis within seconds. He didn’t even recognize his wife anymore. He’s in the psych ward now. I can’t even imagine how that poor woman must feel, losing her only child and seeing her husband go insane all at the same time. I’ll make sure I’ll see her for a follow up soon.”

House opened his mouth, closed it again, and then just said “oh.”

“She went to get help when he lost it,” Wilson continued, “and security arrived really soon, but you know I’m not much of a fighter…”

“He could have killed you.”

“Yes.”

“If you ever, I mean _ever_ , deal with parents of dead patients on your own again I’ll fucking kill you myself here and now. Got it?”

Wilson awkwardly stroked House’s hair with his right hand. “Got it. Believe me, this wasn’t an experience I’m keen to repeat.” 

“I’d have bashed his head in with my cane.”

“I know. Calm down. I’m still alive.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down.”

“Okay, by all means, stay agitated. I’m not going to listen to your ranting anymore. I’m exhausted, I want to try and get some sleep. It’s a good thing tomorrow is Saturday.”

House rolled his eyes. “Do you really think I’d have let you go to work if it wasn’t Saturday today?”

“Like I said, I’m not listening anymore.” Wilson wriggled to lie down, but stopped and grabbed his shoulder. “Ow! Shit…”

House was next to him instantly. “Hold still, idiot. Try to relax, I’ll help you. No, don’t move your bad leg. God, you’re a moron.”

Despite his harsh words, House was gentle and helped Wilson to lie down without hurting him. Wilson sighed with relief when his head was on the pillow. He glanced at his nightstand.

“House, where are the pagers?”

“Over here. Go to sleep now that your painkillers still work.”

“Give them to me.”

“No. I’m in charge of the pagers from now on.”

“Don’t be like that. I already promised you I won’t deal with grieving parents on my own anymore.”

“Yeah, until I’m in a lot of pain and you decide your concern for me overrides that promise. I won’t throw them around anymore, okay?”

“Okay,” Wilson said. He reached for House and took his hand. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Go to sleep. Wake me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

“You better,” House warned, squeezing Wilson’s hand, “or I will dislocate your right shoulder as well.”

Wilson laughed a little and House smiled. He’d been worried Wilson might be too stressed to fall asleep again, but that problem was solved now. He gingerly stretched his painful leg and closed his eyes, glad Wilson had taken the new Pager Regime so well. Not that it would have changed anything if Wilson hadn’t…

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been posting House fan fic on LJ before (ages ago), and now that I've got an AO3 account anyway, I decided to put them here, too.
> 
> Warnings: language.


End file.
